


Interregnum

by atrees



Category: Code Geass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 12:06:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15662910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atrees/pseuds/atrees
Summary: In paradise, the demon sleeps. [Vignette in celebration of the new season announcement.]





	Interregnum

A/N: I had to write something after the new season got announced. Kept everything vague enough that hopefully this will still be canon after we learn more.

Interregnum

In paradise, the demon sleeps.

In his dream he wanders through fields of wheat. The air is clean, unmarred by the smoke of war factories. He sees children playing in the fields, and farmers tending cattle, and distant farmhouses at sunset like bronze palaces, and it's almost impossible to believe there exist corners of the world where mail still arrives by horse, where the grocery store is a half-mile drive by carriage, where the word _Zero_ is a strange, foreign number. In the demon's dream he shares his house with a witch, except in his dream they are neither demon nor witch but regular humans – though perhaps more intelligent than the average human, and more beautiful (at this, the witch smirks and says, _which do you think is which?)_

(Even in this remote corner, the sky of Damocles lingers, but barely. The flying citadel's silhouette against the sun crumbles with every morning.)

He spends most of his time reading. There are more books that exist than he can catch up on, and not enough sun-drenched afternoons. People have even written biographies about _him._ ( _Your achievements are blown_ entirely _out of proportion_ ). The witch says he has turned dull in his exile, but both of them, he believes, can do with a little dullness. As is the wont of dreams, time follows its own pace; he finds himself waking at odd hours, observing odd things. The stars and galaxies like watercolors in a smogless sky. The smell of grass after rain. The silence which hides a symphony: the call of a woodlark, the trill of distant waterfalls, the gentle snoring of the witch ( _I do_ not _snore!_ ).

But no dream lasts forever, not even the most well-earned ones. Political turmoil in the European Union. Terrorist attacks in Britannia. Sakuradite smuggling out of Japan. The world does not wait for its emperors, and peace, he knows, is always fleeting. Of course he has planned for this eventuality, and of course he already misses the halcyon days, but if nothing else, it will be fun to see the faces of his friends. Surprise, absolutely. Joy, undoubtedly. And one in particular will likely strangle him for not telling her. But the power of the king condemns to a life of solitude, and the demon understands this, more than anything.

( _Do you have to? You've already given them so much.)_

He says nothing. Because some questions must be asked, even if both questioner and questionee already know the answer.

The Requiem is ending.

The Resurrection begins.


End file.
